PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

The Fiery Slayer - Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

O the eye of the dayYou are not a phoenix.May you outliveMyriad of MethuselahYou too have three prime phases of lifeAnd now you suffer the male-menopause.You may grow though perilouslyInto a large terrible giantAnd devour all the parasitic subordinatesThose lie within your spherical parameter, Fume the deadly ﬁre like a ﬁre-dragonAnd belch the volcanic profuse heatThat’ll shrink and shrivel the innocent things, All the siblings will go mute in ashesBut your red ﬁery aggressive audacityls fated to meet with the damn diminution.O the bullshit ravaging bullyYou’ll die a pale, dwarf deathAnd lose in the endless hall ofEternal darkness; stark, pitch black! May the flowing brooks cease to runUnder the white shroud’s impish fun.Before you’re buried in the dark hole, But you’ll not be spared for your satanic role.Be on dieting lest you be too corpulentYou feed on your blood though opulentOnce all run dry you’ll turn just a fraudulent.